One Hot Night Together
by yaoifangirlHolly
Summary: Taken the delicious smutty scene featuring Jace/Clary from City of Fallen Angels and continued it :  Enjoy! The first 544 words belong to Cassandra Clare but the rest is mine! M for sexual activity.


**Disclaimer: I do not own The Mortal Instruments series of any of the characters. Cassandra Clare does. I do not profit from writing this.**

**Story: Just a simple Jace/Clary smut-fest. After reading the delicious makeout scene in City of Fallen Angels I wanted to continue with what could have happened if Jace hadn't gone doolally. The first 544 words of this belong to Cassandra Clare, I didn't write it, but after that the words are mine. Enjoy!**

"Take your shirt off," she whispered. She reached for the hem of it but he was already there, lifting it over his head and tossing it casually to the floor. He shook his hair out, and she almost expected the bright gold strands to scatter sparks in the darkness of the room.

"Sit up," she said softly. Her heart was pounding. She didn't usually take the lead in these sort of situations, but he didn't seem to mind. He sat up slowly, pulling her up with him, until they were both sitting among the welter of blankets. She crawled into his lap, straddling his hips. Now they were face-to-face. She heard him suck his breath in and he raised his hands, reaching for her shirt, but she pushed them back down again, gently, to his sides, and put her own hands on him instead. She watched her fingers slide over his chest and arms, the swell of his biceps where the black Marks twined, the star-shaped mark on his shoulder. She traced her index finger down the line between his pectoral muscles, across his flat washboard stomach. They were both breathing hard when she reached the buckle on his jeans, but he didn't move, just looked at her with an expression that said: _Whatever you want_.

Her heart thudding, she dropped her hands to the hem of her own shirt and pulled it off over her head. She wished she'd worn a more exciting bra – this one was plain white cotton – but when she looked up again at Jace's expression, the thought evaporated. His lips were parted, his eyes nearly black; she could see herself reflected in them and knew he didn't care if her bra was white or black or neon green. All he was seeing was her.

She reached for his hands, then, freeing them, and put them on her waist, as if to say, _you can touch me now_. He tiled his head up, her mouth came down over his, and they were kissing again, but it was fierce instead of languorous, a hot and fast burning fire. His hands were feverish: in her hair, on her body, pulling her down so that she lay under him, and as their bare skin slid together she was acutely conscious that there really was nothing between them but his jeans and her bra and panties. She tangled her hands in his silky, dishevelled hair, holding his head as he kissed down her throat. _How far are we going? What are we doing?_ a small part of her brain was asking, but the rest of her mind was screaming at that small part to shut up. She wanted to keep touching him, kissing him; she wanted him to hold her and to know that he was real, here with her, and that he would never leave again.

His fingers found the clasp of her bra. She tensed. His eyes were large and luminous in the darkness, his smile slow. "Is this alright?"

She nodded. Her breath was coming fast. No one in her entire life had ever seen her topless – no _boy_, anyway. As if sensing her nervousness, he cupped her face gently with one hand, his lips teasing hers, brushing gently across them, and leaned back down and began applying kisses to her neck, long, slow, sensuous kisses; his tongue flicking against her skin in a way that had her gasping.

"Jace…"

Through the haze of her desire her gaze followed him; he'd lifted his head, and was sliding a strap off her shoulder, then the other. A hand slid back round her back and she lifted her body slightly to assist him, then shut her eyes, her heart now thudding as she felt the clasp open and Jace lifted it away.

All her embarrassment about being flat-chested, boyish, was now flooding to the fore, but unexpectedly she felt soft hair against her cheek, then Jace's whisper in her ear.

"You're beautiful, Clary."

She opened her eyes just in time to catch a glimpse of his eyes; heavy lidded with desire, before he finished lowering his head to one small breast and began to kiss it, laving his tongue over and her in a way that soon had her breathless and trembling, biting her lip to suppress against the moans.

"Clary," he said pulling back, and the eye contact, even in the dimness made her flush. "Do you trust me?"

"Uh-huh," she dipped her head in a nod, unable to manage anything more coherent. Her entire brain had now been consumed by needing, aching desire, her body screaming silently for him, more of him, now.

She heard Jace taking an unsteady breath and realised he too must be feeling the same. His hand was sliding teasingly down her stomach, to slip underneath her panties she realised. She swallowed, about to tell him not to, when she realised something. She wanted him to.

Closing her eyes in anticipation and nervousness, Clary drew in a breath, which turned shallower as Jace's hand slipped down, and gently a finger probing into her wetness, parting her for better access.

"You're so wet," Jace said, the words catching in his throat in a way that indicated he was now very turned on, but Clary could only answer him with panting noises as he moved down to rest his head over her shoulder, and began sliding his finger back and forth.

"Tell me where," he murmured in her ear – her gasps had died down but she hadn't found the courage to guide him.

"If you…extend your finger further down, and push in there…?" She could feel herself cringing with shyness as she spoke, but was soon rewarded as Jace followed her instructions.

"Like this?"

"Ahhh! Yes," was all she could manage in reply as she was immediately overcome by breathlessness again as Jace found the right spot and began to wiggle his finger back and forth inside her. Clary pressed her lips together but it did little to prevent the moans building inside her. Daring to whisper for him to go faster, she found herself overcome with the sensations and arching into Jace's touch, her muscles clenching around him. He pressed up deeper into her in response and she held herself as tightly around him as she could before release hit and shudders racked down her body.

When she'd recovered her breath she noticed Jace lying awkwardly next to her, taking her hand in his. "Um, if it's okay with you…I think I might need your hand too."

It took Clary a few moments to figure out his meaning and his awkward expression until she noticed the tent in his jeans.

"Oh," escaped her mouth.

Twisting on her side to face him, she let her hand roam down his body to his jeans, which she found herself struggling to open and getting flustered, so he reached a hand down to unbutton them in one swift manoeuvre. Returning her hand, she unzipped them, the noise loud in the quiet room, and then awkwardly worked them down his hips. His boxers were grey and she wasted no time in working them down too before embarrassment could get the better of her.

Thankfully, Jace had closed his eyes for her too, making it easier for her to close her hand around his member and begin a sliding up-down motion. The sounds of her hand pumping him and his soft cries filled the room, and feeling her embarrassment rising, she lowered her head to attack his collarbone, sucking at the skin, and flicking it with her tongue as he had done. It wasn't long before his noises stopped and he gently pulled her hand away. She realised it was sticky and wiped it awkwardly on the side of the bedsheet. She would have to remember to wash that later.

They lay together quietly, Clary losing herself in the contentedness as she buried her head against his chest, before he spoke in a murmur.

"That was amazing."

Clary exhaled, pleased. "Yeah, it was. It wasn't as scary as I'd thought it would be," she admitted after a moment.

"You don't need to be scared," he said, so softly she thought he was about to fall asleep. "You should know by now that you turn me on, Clary. You don't have to worry about 'getting it right' or anything like that."

"I feel the same about you," she replied, when she could think of nothing else to say. Not that Jace had ever seemed like one to get it wrong in the first place.

They stayed like that, together, until morning.


End file.
